


The Graveyard

by Golden_Sparrow



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Stranger Things (TV 2016), Supernatural
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, One Shot Collection, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, To Be Continued?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Sparrow/pseuds/Golden_Sparrow
Summary: This is where I am dumping all the stories I have not completed, but put work into. Each chapter is a new story with a new fandom. If any of these stories get enough attention, I may try to continue them. I will update the tags as I add new fandoms into the collection.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You, Piers Nivans/Reader, Steve Harrington/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Dean Winchester/ Reader

Note: In this story the reader is the only person who can use Ruby's demon killing knife. I also made everything up as I went along, so the story will not be 100% accurate to the show. 4 Chapters and 22 Pages

Chapter 1 

There was a firm and methodical knocking on your apartment door. You turned the TV off and left to open it and there stood a handsome man in an impressive looking suit. He had a young face, too young to be looking so official, he seemed to be your age after all. There was a confident look in his green bright eyes that made up for and inexperience he might have for his young age. You met his confidence with equal stubbornness and crossed your arms at him. 

"Hello ma'am. I am agent John Bonham of the FBI." His deep voice sent a chill down your spine. He pulled out an authentic looking federal badge to verify his position. You eyed him cautiously as you mulled over his name. You knew it was the name of a Led Zeppelin's drummer. He was giving you a fake name and a fake ID. Last time you checked only top ranking criminals were cocky enough to pull something like that off. You stopped yourself from making such a harsh accusation and decided to just monitor his actions. 

"Are you (y/n) (l/n)?" He questioned in a firm tone. As he put his badge away you noticed his left coat pocked hung lower than the other; an obvious tell for someone caring a small hand gun. If he was an agent, maybe that was a good thing, but still you felt your stomach become unsettled at the thought of him pulling that out on you. FBI agent or not, you could not trust him with such a deadly weapon on his side. You had to play along and call the cops once he left.

"Yes. I am (y/n). What's wrong agent Bonham?" Your words burned your tongue as you forced them out as naturally as possible. 

"You'll have to come with us. You're in danger." He stepped aside and motioned for you to step into the hall. You stood firm and challenged him openly. 

"If you want me to follow you, I at least deserve an explanation." 

"At least walk with me as I explain." He said, trying to meet you halfway. You decided to give him one last chance. If he gave you a convincing answer, you would willingly go with him. He set a fast pace as you moved down the halls, clearly in a rush to retrieve you. Despite his long legs, you were able to keep up with him by increasing the speed of your steps. You could tell he was thinking out every turn and move he made as he navigated the hall. He was tense did not start explaining himself until you reached the lobby.

"You're special and because of that we believe someone is after you."

"How am I special?" He slowed down long enough to open the front door for you and continued at a slower and less suspicious pace. 

"There is a...dangerous group out, attacking innocent people around America." He cut himself off before he talked again on another tangent. "My partner parked the car a couple blocks down to avoid being recognized." 

"You know your explanation is getting pretty cryptic." You pressed him, needing more information. You follow him down hidden side streets and waited patiently until you entered alley way. "Agent Bonham!" You demanded his attention and tugged on his jacked to get it. He looked down to you with slight surprise on his face.

He was use to people being flustered and tongue tied around him; scared beyond belief due to the dangerous nature of the situations he was usually in. You, on the other hand, were not phased. At the moment he was not sure why he was so impressed by your reaction, but now he knows everything about you impressed him.

"Look sweetheart. You're special because you can kill demons and we need someone on our team like that. Problem is the demons are now trying to kill you first--" You missed the rest of his explanation as alarm bells rang out in your head. He was the definition of psychotic or maybe a sociopath. 

You put all the weight and power you could muster behind your fist as it landed right on his jaw. He stumbled back in shock and you heard him curse under his breath as he rubbed it. His cursing only got louder when you ran off. Based off his delayed reactions and mumbled curses, you would have guessed running off was only a mild inconvenience to him. You were nothing to really worry about, just an easy catch.

You ran out of the alley and took a hard left to get away from the man and your home. Your home did not feel safe anymore, it felt tainted and you could not return to it with a clean conscience. Not long after your escaped you ran into another man of impressive stature and build. 

"Sir! Can you please call the police? There is a crazy man chasing me." The warm comfort of security was quickly stolen from you the moment you locked eyes with the man. His eyes went black and were filled with malice intent. Heavy waves of hatred flowed off the man and hit you like an overwhelming force. A teasing smile appeared on his lips as he looked down at you with pity.

"And here I thought you would be smarter than this, running away from the only person who could save you." He pulled out a black spear head knife that was over nine inches long and looked it over with a smile, before he focused on you. "Thanks to you and your brilliant decisions, it looks like your only options are to die by my hand or come with me. Need a second to choose?" 

All you could do was take small steps back as the rest of your body locked up. You would have liked to blame your reactions on the demon, but deep down you knew you were freezing up because you were afraid. The situation, the information and the threat all being real was too much for you to take on at once. You slowed your breathing and mustered the most confident voice you could, though you were sure it was shaky just like your stance. 

"I'd rather die than help someone evil like you." You stared him down and looked straight into his burning eyes.

Another sharp blood covered blade brought the demon to his knees as it forced its way though his chest. A deep yell was ripped from his throat as he gripped the blade and slowly started to pull it through his own chest. Behind him stood the man who tried to warn you about this whole situation. 

"Hurry! It only stuns him." His command ripped your focus off the wounded demon. The fear fell right off of you as you ran just behind him, towards a black Impala. Behind the wheel was an impatient looking man with short brown hair and brown puppy dog eyes. 

You crashed into the back seat since you jumped into the vehicle aimlessly. The pain from the impact traveled right up your spine. You struggled to sit up right as the car sped off and easily threw you to the other side of the vehicle. Agent Bonham already sat upright and was buckled in while you scrambled for the seat-belt. You needed something, anything to make you feel safe. 

The moment you were upright and settled in your seat, you looked back at the demon you could barley recognize in the distance. You watched the man open his mouth and a dark cloud fled out of the body in a dark torrent. The body and knife that was plunged into him fell to the ground uselessly. You stared at the knife and guilt and fear came over you as you realized all you had done. 

"Sorry about your knife...and punching you in the face." The man let out a sudden choke, from being caught off guard, then laughed in response to the humorous statement. Agent Bonham just grumbled at him to "shut up". You tugged at the end of your shirt sleeves in response to your sudden feeling of embarrassment and kept your eyes on the ground. 

"Don't worry about the knife, we can pick it back up and as far as Dean goes, I am sure he deserved it. Probably came off too strong or aggressive." The young man reassured you with a smile. "I am Sam by the way and this is my brother, Dean Winchester."

The moment the car stopped the peaceful tone Sam had instilled in you dissipated. The comfort and trust had vanished the moment the audible click of a hammer on a gun sounded. Dean held the gun, a small but intimidating hand gun, and aimed the barrel at you. He kept it at his eye level for a moment to make a point, before lowering it to hip level. You immediately stiffened and glared at him, completely forgetting about the gun. 

"I thought you were here to help me." A harsh accusation of deceit underlined your statement in an attempt to make him feel guilty. Sam opened the passenger side door for you, so you could leave. 

"We are. We need to know we can trust you first." You scoffed at his statement and found it to be very ironic.

"Trust is usually a two way street, wouldn't you say?" Dean seemed to already be done with your words as he rolled his eyes and had a bored look on his face. His voice took on an intimidating husky tone as he spoke. 

"Yeah, but I have a feeling you'll get over this, so come on Sweetheart. Just makes it easier on us." He sounded so sure of himself. At the time you did not realize he was speaking from experience since he had went through this routine many times with other people and always had the same result; forgiveness and trust. Despite his confidence, you highly doubted you could brush off such an encounter. 

He motioned with his gun for you to get up and you obeyed. You followed Sam, who opened any doors that impeded you from getting to your destination, and Dean stood behind you to coax you to move with his gun. 

They shut you up in a small box of a motel room. It was obviously a cheap one, with thing walls, outdated appliances and the smell of cigarette smoke embedded in the room. You sat in sat in the only chair in the room and waited for them to explain to you what the hell was going on. Instead, they left you to run "errands". 

Chapter 2 Dean's POV

Dean slammed the door shut behind him when he entered the motel room for the last time. All the supplies from the car were now inside, there was no other reason for him to leave. Dean grumbled under his breath, sauntered over to the nearest chair and threw his duffel bag on it. Sam was the first person to bring up Dean's sour mood, knowing it would be swept under the rug if she did not address it. He was always stubborn that way. 

"Dean, come on. We agreed on this before hand. No matter who they were, we need this person on our team. Cass and I both think she can be a valuable member. What's wrong with this anyways?" Dean glanced over to you as you slep on top of the motel bed. Sam said you were asleep the last time he check on you. Dean guessed the surge of adrenaline you got from the fight really drained you. To him it was another reason not to let you in the team. Even if you were suitable for fighting monster, could you even handle the stress that comes with their line of work? The more he thought the more problems he saw for his team. They went before anyone, especially a stranger they just saved.

"She has a life!" Dean yelled as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He threw his arm out for emphasis. "And are we really ignoring the fact that she ran towards the enemy?" He immediately continued with his speech, not pausing for someone to reply. "Or how about the fact that she didn't know anything about us? Heh....some chosen one!" He scoffed lightly at your given title and stopped his frustrated pacing across the small walkway. He looked back up at Sam, knowing nothing he could say could had swayed his view. 

"All we are doing is saving someone. We're helping this girl and that's something you never argued against before." Dean stopped for a second and let his younger brother's statement sink in, before he brought up another problem.

"You're right she is just a girl with no training. What if she get's herself killed huh? That's on us." Dean, tapped his chest for emphasis and tensed up more every time he though of a new threat. His brother and Cass were his family and to risk losing them in any way scared him. It made him panic. 

"We can train her."

"What if we push her too soon. What if she gets in trouble?"

"She won't." Sam stated with such confidence it could not be denied. Dean calmed down and felt more at ease once he noticed his team mates have thought this out. He was not just rushing in and taking you under their wing on a whim, he was aware of the dangers.

"We'll figure this out Dean." Sam reassured, clasping his hand on his brother's shoulder. Dean untensed and accepted her statement with a nod. Then, with a flick of his hand he waved San on to continue their work as he turned to walk away. He still respected his brother's wishes and accepted the plan even though he was still upset about it. His voice was rough again as he spoke to his brother for the last time that night.

"Fine, go ahead keep her, but I am not going easy on her. Last thing I am doing is helping another person get stuck in this life." 

Chapter 3 

"You're sure your brother is ok with you being in here?" You snapped as Sam approached you. You heard it creak loudly, as it scuffed the floor as it was dragged open. He inched into the room, not wanting to alarm you.

"He'll get over it." He joked then paused, trying to gauge how angry you were, before talking on an understanding tone. They did lie to you and lock you up in a motel room after all. You had every right to be angry; you even had the right to lash out physically, but you did not and he was thankful for that. 

"I came down to apologize for Dean's actions...for mine...Dean's just...well--" 

"Scared?" You cut him off, still not turning to look at him. You heard him freeze up in surprise. He knew Dean for all his life and could not always figure out what was on his mind, but somehow you understood him instantly. Sam's statement made you sympathetic towards Dean. He was never rude to you after all, except for the whole gun situation, and if he was rude it was necessary. It was also the natural roughness of his voice that automatically made anything he said seem brash and intimidating, especially when he made it even slightly aggressive. No matter what macho façade he put up to test you, you promised yourself you would look past it, so you could eventually see his kinder side. 

"Yeah. He's also protective of the group. Of course that does not give us the right to keep you here." He chuckled nervously. 

"So demons, ghosts. They're all real?"

"Yeah." He answered seriously.

You whipped around to face him and built up a stern expression. Normally it was ok to have sympathy and grace for people, but it often muddled you focus in times like this. You needed to be stern to get your answers and secure your safety first and for most.

"If I am just another person you saved why am I here? You need to erase my memory like the men in black or something?" He chuckled dully at your joke and shook his head. He motioned for you to sit down and you obliged.

"I know it's hard to accept, but Dean was telling the full truth. You can kill demons, and with us is the only place you can be safe from their attacks. I am sorry." 

"Wait wait wait. I can kill demons?"

"He hasn't told you?" Sam questioned, seeming surprised that his brother failed to fill you in on anything. 

"No, no one's told me anything yet! You just locked me in this motel room and left!"

"Well there's this ancient knife we got from a demon named Ruby. It kills demons but has to be used by the right person for it to actually work. It seems that you're that person."

"So only I can use it to kill demons?" 

"It seems so. And since we have a lot of them on our back lately, it would be a big help to have you around." 

"I mean I am staying. Not like I have much of a choice."

He looked at you with such sorrow in his eyes as he understood what you were giving up. You decided to accept your fate, and stay. 

"Look, we've all had to give up our chance for normal lives for this or brought our families into it." He paused and a pained expression ran across his face. He was speaking from experience. "You can still keep in touch with them and visit from time to time, but nothing too long. And you can't let them know what you're doing."

"Come on. I think that is enough talking for now. Dean is waiting in the next room to explain the fun stuff." He opened the door and egged you on to follow him to the next room. You edged into the room suspiciously and prepared yourself for what you may confront. 

You remained rigid and stood in the door way as you waited for Dean to acknowledge your presence. He had a different mood from the one you saw last night. He seemed much more relaxed and confident. You assumed it was because he knew he could trust you which allowed him to not be on guard. Or, more likely, his brother and friends helped him calm down. Either way, you liked him much better like this. It was the real him. Though he still had an attractive edge to him, everything else about him changed. He seemed much kinder, happier, joking and open. Sadly, his whole demeanor changed back when he noticed you trying to enter the room. You supposed he was still skeptical of you.

Sam clasped his hands and spoke up first, with a purposely overly happy attitude to be sarcastic. " How about a 'Good morning (y/n). How do you feel?'"

Dean rolled his eyes and let out a huff before un-enthusiastically repeating his brother's words in a mumbled tone. You accidentally scoffed at him with a dull laugh, because his delivery was dull and the statement felt ironic. With the day you had and how you were treated, you did not know where to start. 

Dean gave you a threatening warning gaze and you quickly corrected your rude behavior by giving him an honest reply. You wanted to attend least try to get along with Dean before forever losing your cool and butting heads with him. 

"Like my head is spinning." It was true, all this new information was frying your brain, not to mention it was way too early for all of this. Sam chuckled at your obvious comment. You looked deeply confused and distressed even though you were trying to hide it.

"Well do not worry that's all the hard stuff you'll run into today. Promise." Sam put his hand over his heart and raised his other hand in the air to make his promise official. "Now we'll teach you the basics about monsters and their weaknesses. Or at least common ones, you'll learn as you go."

"Listen up. This is the only accurate journal we found so far. It was made by our father." You placed your hand on the journal and slid it over to yourself. You slowly opened it to the index and started reading to find what the topic of this journal would be. It was an overview of everything the hunters had ever learned on his job. Then Dean brought out an impressive looking blade with symbols carved into the side of the blade.

"Only one person can use this baby for its intended purpose. Killing demons." You inched closer to it, finger tips ghosting over the handle. You felt an odd pull towards it, a need to hold it. It was this pull that made you realize that you needed to stay. 

"Think of it like Thor's hammer. Only you're worthy." You smiled at Sam's lame reference. You were about to grab the knife, when Dean grabbed your hand and pulled the blade away. You froze and looked at him like a deer caught in head lights. A teasing smile ghosted over his lips. He found you eagerness to jump in amusing, but also rash and immature. 

"Woah there." His smooth drawl rolled out from the pit of his stomach, before returning to its normal deep tone, "You have to learn to respect the weapon and our trade before you can use it. You can get hurt otherwise." Dean looked over to Sam, who gave him a confirming nod. 

"It's just a knife, not a gun. I won't accidentally stab myself. Besides I need some sort of self defense."

"Respect the weapon." He repeated. 

Sam grabbed his cell phone and put it on speaker and played the saved recorded messages. It looked so automatic for him to do, you were sure it was part of the daily routine: dress, eat, listen to job offers.

A jumpy and distant voice came out of the receiver. "My name is Derek Foster, you guys helped a buddy of mine with a Wendigo back in Waco. Anyways I have a big problem here and was hoping you could solve it so the cops do not have to come down. One of my tenants is dead, frozen solid in her room. I'll tell you more when you get here. My address is 1563 West Grayden street Sunshine apartments. Thank you....bye."

Dean let out a sigh before grabbing his coat from the back of a chair and saying, "Okay. Let's go." The two were automatically on the move.

"I am coming along. Right?" You planted yourself in the doorway before Dean could respond as an answer. Sam arrived in time to see your standoff. He rolled his eyes at the situation and grinned smugly as he waited for Dean to handle the problem. Sam could already tell you two were up for a fight. 

"Not this time sweetheart. You have to stay inside the safe house until you're fully trained. We'll be back in eight hours." His statement immediately struck a nerve with you as you stayed planted in your seat. You were not going to be locked up and forgotten that easily. Your voice rose and words rushed out of your mouth so quickly, you did not have time to process what you were saying. You just voiced your thoughts.

"Wait! You're going to lock me up for days! In there?!" You pointed towards the house in disbelief and waited for an answer. "Cause there's no way a case takes just eight hours to solve. I know you're lying." Sam suddenly broke into the conversation and seemed to be equally appalled at Dean's suggestion. 

"You can't put her under house arrest Dean. Besides we're just looking over the place. It'll be safe." Dean ventured outside, sat in the driver's seat of the Impala and started surfing the stations on the radio as he thought. It seemed to calm him down or help put his mind in order. 

"Fine, but she can't leave our sights. We'll talk about the rest later." You take up the offer, knowing it's the best one you'll get from him.

Two hour passed until you reached your destination, and you could already feel Dean's hateful gaze burn into you. He was not going to allow you to roam unsupervised. The scene was at a small apartment complex in the middle of the town. You would guess it had about twenty units in it, ten on each floor. You entered the building and found the owner at the front desk. He fidgeted away at papers and rushed to his feet when he saw your group.

Sam spoke up on the groups behalf, "You must be Mr.Foster. We're here to help with your problem." The owner went around and shook everyone's hand excitedly. 

"Oh! Yes, yes thank you folks. Just follow me." He quickly called an elevator and your large group carefully squeezed in. The elevator shuttered and you gripped the golden hand rail that lined the wall. You would have guessed the room was made of sheet metal based on the way it constantly shuddered and groaned. When the elevator doors were stuck upon your arrival, you lost your breath. 

You shot out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened and followed your trio into a room marked 4b. The owner shuffled for his keys, unlocked the door and tapped it open cautiously. The door was only ajar when he shrunk away from it in fear and froze in place. It was the only time he remained still and quiet for the whole walk. He obviously did not want to face what lied in the room again. Swallowing hard, he worked up his courage to speak, "Ok well this is where I stop. Good luck!" 

No one replied to him and instead let him return to his work. Sam poked the door and it swung open. The first thing you spotted was the snow that fanned around the door way. It started in a pile right at the thresh hold, then spread into the room as if it was blown in by a strong breeze. Sam was the first to enter the room and leave your sights, you followed Dean. 

You tried to hide behind Dean as long as you could. He resonated a protective aura that made you comfortable and safe. Even if he did not trust you, you knew he would keep you safe. You also needed his support so you could brace yourself for what you might see.

Dean could sense your apprehension and patiently waited on you to build up your courage. The longer he could keep you away from this the better. He was not going to push you into this or anything you did not think you could handle. He actually felt a need to keep you from this. Claiming that you needed more training was just an easy excuse to hide you away and keep you safe. He felt you take a deep shuttering breath, right before you pushed yourself out from behind him and fell silent.

The frost covered victim was frozen in a pose that showed what her last movements were like. Her knees tucked in halfway towards her chest in an attempt to form a fetal position to create heat. Her fingers were curled in, like she was trying to form a fist. The woman's face was so gaunt that her cheeks looked hallowed and her lips were curled in. Her eyes were still opened, but half lidded and glazed over like glass. Her nose, lips and finger tips were black and frost bitten; chunks of beaded ice clung to her hair and eye lashes. 

"Here. You can help document the place. Just try not to move stuff. We don't want to get linked to the crime scene." Sam commented. You squatted down and started looking at the body from different angles. You looked for anything odd, including the snow that was by the entrance to give you a clue as to what happened. You then turned and inspected the doorway.

You noticed the chipped paint and deep scratches around the door hinges that she was looking at. You felt the deep gashes in the wood with your finger tips and noted that there were wood shaving on the floor. "She was trying to escape by removing the door hinges....but the lock seemed to be busted.....it practically flew open."

"It was the first thing she did, after trying to break off the door knob. I think the same force that broke in kept the door shut." You nodded solemnly as the clues of the scene were being pieced into a story. You could watch how her death panned out; step by step. 

"That means we're dealing with a spirit." Dean spoke up to educate you. "Invisible forces are always spirits." 

"Guys! Look over here. We got our first lead." Both of you headed to the bed room towards the back of the apartment. Could there really be evidence this far from the scene? Sam pulled out a drawer that held only royal blue match books. They were all identical and were from the same place, the Blue Coyote Bar. "This place is just a few blocks away." He noted reading the address off the back of one of the books. 

"Why don't I stay back here to finish the scene and talk to the owner. Sam can you take (y/n) with you to go see if anyone at the bar knows anything."

Dean then handed over the keys and instructed to meet back in an hour in a manner that reminded you of a warning father. You felt your trust in the group deepen upon seeing how well they treated each other. 

Sam and you rushed out to the car, eager to track the new lead. You pulled up the direction to the bar on your phone and guide him along the way. 

"Ok. Now take a left in half a mile and you'll arrive." You announced with a smile as you turned off the gps and placed your phone in your lap. Sam did not respond, so you gave him a curious look.

"Got it and just to let you know, when we question people we have two go-to questions. Where the victims acting stranger before the incident? Did they have any enemies?" You nodded and mouthed them to try and memorize it as you exited the car. Sam stopped at the door, his hand on the knob, just to give you one last word of advice, "When you find me follow my lead and they won't ask you to flash a badge." Before you could question him, he flung the door open and strolled into the bar.

It was a typical dingy hole in the wall bar where faces and problems were constantly forgotten. This was a place people went to in order to disappear. You already spotted three different men that were passed out in their own private booths across from the dimly lit bar. They were all drinking themselves into a stupor in hopes that they could live in a state of unaware bliss and run from their worries. What they really got was a zombie like mentality and missing pieces of their memories due to blacking out drunk. 

The long mirror behind the bar that held shelves of alcohol was covered in layer or grime; you were sure it was for the benefit customers. Who would want to watch their self as they drank themselves into oblivion? The lights were dimmed for the same reason, to help hide the customer's shame. 

You followed Sam obediently as he made a bee-line towards the bartender. Luckily the man did not seem too bright, which would make it easier to get answers from him and avoid suspicion. You were sure he was so dumb he would believe anything you said. Sam took out his fake FBI badge and presented it to the bar tender. 

"I am agent West and this is my partner Agent Keys. We're here to talk about Susan Dunworth. Anything interesting you can tell us about her? Was she acting weird? Have any enemies?" The bar keep placed the glass he just finished cleaning on a rack. 

"She stopped coming 'round 'bout two weeks ago. Poor thing lost her friend in the woods last winter. That's when she became a frequent customer before she locked herself in her room. Won't come out no more. She claims something's after her."

"What was her friend's name? How'd she die?" You questioned as Sam leaned in slightly.

"Christine Watts was the girl's name. Her and Susan went hiking in the snow. Susan said some animal attacked them in the woods and killed Christine." The bar keep picked up another glass and started cleaning it with a dry cloth rag. 

"Thank you sir. You have been very helpful." Sam slid him a fake contact card. "There is our phone number and the address of the place we're staying if you have anything else to say." The two of you then turned on your heels and exited the bar. You started talking the moment the doors closed behind you after holding your composure for so long. You bounded out of the bar just ahead of Sam with a spring in your step from successfully pulling off your cover. "That's all we need? The information seems a little spotty." 

"Yeah, it usually is, but we always piece it together somehow. You did really good in there. I would have thought you were a real FBI agent myself." Sam tucked a small leather case in the Impala's glove box and you knew it was his fake badge. 

"Isn't it pretty dangerous getting on the FBI's radar like that."

He nodded as you sat in the passenger's seat, "Yep, but not as bad as being on a demon's one." Guilt covered his face and his smile died the moment the joke ended. He hastily spoke up to try and fix his error, words fumbled out of his mouth. His tone was more compassionate and calm despite not knowing what to say, "I mean that we're all under their radar not--" you cut him off to spare him from dealing any more damage.

"--No you guys are not. I am the only one being targeted and we can't dance around that fact," You let out a deep sigh as your situation sunk in your mind again. You honestly forgot you had demons out there trying to kill you. You forgot about the bounty over your head because your new friends were such a good distraction. Being with them made you feel happy and satisfied with your life. "You didn't mean to bring it up....or make it clear how much of a hole I'm really in." Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the dash board. "We're early, but maybe we should return anyways." Sam started the car in response and headed back to the apartments. You did not speak anymore, but the atmosphere was not heavy or awkward.

"You're back early." Dean greeted.

"Yeah and we got some pretty interesting information. Susan here had a friend named Christine who died in the snow and started drinking from grief--"

"--or guilt." Dean pointed out as he focused intently on the conversation with crossed arms. Your group huddled in a small circle in the hall way. You found it odd that they would talk about the case so openly. 

"Exactly!" He exclaimed, excited that Dean caught on so quickly, "I am thinking Susan caused her death and this was a vengeful spirit seeking revenge." Dean pulled out a small silver key with a small plastic key chain and jammed it into the lock. Everyone remained quiet as they waited on his plan.

"Ok. The owner is offering us a vacant room for the night. We can do some research to find what it is exactly, see where to find it and head out to kill it." Everyone agreed with the plan and started for the door, leaving you in confusion. This whole monster hunting gig was still new to you, so you had every right to be confused. Even though the question was probably a silly one you brought it to light.

"What do you mean find it? The spirit is not in the building?" You saw Dean chuckle at you, not in a demeaning way, but a kind one before Sam answered for him. 

"He means we need to find and break the object the spirit's tied to. As long as the objects around it can zap to any place in town." You nodded in response with wide eyes. You would have never thought it would be so complicated to catch a spirit. All the ghostbuster had to do was suck them up. 

Chapter 4 

The moment you entered the apartment complex from the back entrance with Dean, a cold shiver shot down your spine and your breath was visible.

"Cold spot." Dean mumbled with venom in his voice. He stood rigid and alert, every muscle in his body was tensed. You turned to open the metal exit door, when a crackling sound filled the hall.

You watched in shock as frost slowly climbed up the door. It fanned out in a fern like pattern at first, then grew and layered on itself. The door was quickly encased in ice and snow poured in through the door jam. 

Dean's arm wrapped around you and forcefully pulled you behind him, so you no longer stood in front of the door. You remained speechless and watched the event unfold. Visible puffs of air escaped past your lips in a faster rate as you anticipated what would happen next. Dean also anticipated what would happen and pulled an iron rod from a pocket inside his coat in response. He adjusted his grip on it, ready for a fight. 

The door was blasted open by a forceful burst of snow. You both flattened yourself against the wall to avoid the door as it rocketed down the hall. A swirl of cold snow and frigid air lingered after the explosion and blinded you. It was a snow storm that appeared in the hall. 

Once the snow settled you got a brief glimpse of the spirit, before she attacked again. She had shiny smooth black hair that reached her hips and deathly pale skin. She flung her hand out toward you and both of you were thrown down the hall like rag dolls. 

The air was pushed out of your chest by an invisible force, leaving you groaning on the floor. You slowly got on all fours and saw Dean was already bracing himself against the wall to a standing position. His jaw was clenched and he aggressively walked towards the violent spirit, never looking away from it. Once he got close enough, he let out a yell and swung at it. The spirit flickered away. 

Dean hastily pulled you to your feet and stared at the open door way as he spoke. "We've only slowed her for two minutes if we're lucky." You followed his lead and ran for the stairwell door that was now thawing out. It swung open with a loud bang and you both raced up the stairs. You tumbled into the hall ungracefully. 

You took deep breaths between words, in an attempt to gain your breath, as you spoke, "How is-- no one-- hearing this?"

"I have a feeling people are just ignoring it. Diffusion of responsibility." You blinked in surprise, you did not expect him to give such an intellectual response. The moment he finished speaking Sam burst into the halls. Sam was the first of the two to speak as he took on a wide and defensive stance.

"Let me guess. Our monster looks like a human. Pale skin, long black hair. I am guessing grudge like."

"Please tell me that means you figured out what it is!" You begged. 

"Kind of. We still need its weakness. For now we only have lore." Sam answered. "It's a Yuki-onna."

The room suddenly dropped several degrees and everyone was on edge. "Sam go help (y/n) get all the supplies. Now." Dean's voice was firm and commanding as he got everyone back on track again. 

With the sweep of your arms, you pushed everything you could off the bed and into the two duffle bags the group brought in earlier. Luckily no personal effects were bought to the room, just supplies, so you were ready in seconds. 

"We got everything let's go." Sam announced as he jogged past Dean. Everyone barrled down the hall, Dean lead the front and Sam was holding up the back. You and Sam stayed secure in the middle as you all out ran the Yuki-onna. Dean jumped into the driver's seat without hesitation and started the car. Sam took shotgun and you piled into the back with Sam. The car was ready to go before you even fell into your seat. 

Everyone remained quiet even after there was distance between your group and the apartment. At that point Sam surfed the radio and settled for soft ambiance music. You looked over each of your group members to asses any physical and psychological damage that was done.

The sides of Sam's shoes were coated in ice, a grim reminder of how close you were to getting caught. His teeth were still chattering, but he tried to hide it. He was one tough character, but he was not the type to hide a wound because it showed weakness. That type of thinking belonged to Dean. He was the type of person ignore small wounds so other people would not worry. Knowing how Sam acts, Dean subtly turned on the hot air to help warm him up.

You looked over to Dean next since you were afraid to face him. You felt responsible for the way the hunt ended up. He was rigid and gripped the steering wheel firmly. His gaze was focused on the road ahead, but you could see a million thoughts race through his mind as he drove. His thoughts were weighing him down once again, dragging him down a path he did not belong on. He was taking on unnecessary weight, something that constantly followed him. Considering all that just happened, you knew you got off easy and it scared you, but not them. How often do they come close to dying on each trip?

You carefully placed your hand on Dean's shoulder and felt it relax slightly. "We're all ok you know. Seems to me like this job is in the bag too. All we have to do is come back an--"

"There is no we here. Not yet. You're staying at the safe motel like we planned." You sat back in your seat, feeling side blinded by his response. 

"But this mission is not over yet." You reminded him. "The deal was for one case."

"Plans changed." You crossed your arms in response and glared at him through the rear view mirror. 

Sam and Dean talked for the rest of the trip and Sam told you stories about their old adventures. He gave you basic tips about what common monsters were vulnerable to. For instance ghosts hated salt and iron, and demons flinch at the name of God.

You arrived back at the motel late at night. You dragged all of the equipment inside and went straight to your room. You dropped the duffel bag that carried all your clothes and personal effects in front of the closet. You decided to put them back later since you were not staying long.

The next morning Sam left to get you from your room. He was surprisingly upbeat when he arrived, but you blamed it on coffee. The group seemed to survive on that particular drink from what you had noticed. You were going to make them get some actually rest at the end of the day, not just four hours of sleep and caffeine. How could anyone survive like that?

"Hey, Sam." You greeted in a groggy tone. He shoved a mug of coffee in your hands with a smile and spoke. 

"Looks like you can use some."

"And looks like you've had too much." You joked back. 

"We're going after they Yuki-Onna today. I wanted to go over its lore with you."

"I thought I was off the case."

"I'll talk him back into it." Sam reassured as you followed him to the Winchester's motel room. On the spare table layed his laptop, already open to some odd site. 

"First off, like all ghosts and spirits, a Yuki-Onna is weak to salt. So we use rock salt shotgun shells against it." 

"Salt because..."

"It's a pure substance that hurts ghosts." You nodded to him in response with a puzzled expression. You were quickly learning to not question logic in this line of work. Nothing makes real sense, you just have to trust it will work. 

"And here--" he paused to turn the laptops towards you and read aloud what was on the screen, "Yuki-onnas often invades homes, blowing in the door with a gust of wind to kill residents in their sleep." It fell in line with how the spirit entered Susan's apartment. Sam seemed unphased by the comment's similarities to the case you were on. Instead is seemed to make him more excited and interested, "The Yuki-onna originated in Japan. They were believed to be women who died in a snow storm or were wrongfully killed during one. The victim's spirit would then come back to life and seek revenged on anyone who caused their death,"

"Doesn't that mean she'll go away now if Susan was the one that caused her death?"

"Not exactly. Revenge does not get rid of the spirit. Instead it causes it to slowly forget who they were and who killed them. This makes them think everyone is responsible for their death and they go on murder sprees."

"That's why we gotta put her down now. Before she goes all psycho on us." Dean clarified from the back of the room. You did not expect him to weigh in on the conversation. He stood and walked closer to the two of you until he was standing just behind your chair. "The bartender at the Blue Coyote Bar said the victim, Susan, just lost her friend Christine to a wild animal last winter right? I checked, her body was not found. Now if you assumed that Susan somehow caused Christine's death, intentional or not," he shrugged and tilted his head to emphasize his statement, "it would be enough to create a vengeful spirit."


	2. Piers Nivans/ Reader

Note: This takes place before the events of 6 but they are fighting the same types of enemies.   
3 Chapters 20 Pages

Chapter 1

Piers and Captain Redfield stood firmly in front of their group of men, looking over them to do a head count. Once it was confirmed that every soldiers on your team was present, the captain spoke. He already went over the assignment with the team two nights ago, so you hoped he would simplify the orders. 

"Today our job is to take down any mutants in the secured area. "You feel yourself relax at his statement, it was good to know your first mission would be an easy one. Or as easy as a mission could get. Feeling you had heard his speech before, you disengaged and prepped your gear instead.

You turned on your ear piece to double check it was working and re gripped the assault rifle that was given to you. Since you were a new type of specialized recon scout, one that was being field tested, your armor was much lighter than everyone elses. You could not be restrained and slowed down with heavy armor or be given away by noisy material. You had cargo pants, knee pads and a bullet proof vest to keep you safe. You also had a hip holster for an extra side arm and a knife holster on your shoulder. Over all, the gear you wore was surprisingly light and breathable, which you were incredibly grateful for since your partners were not as lucky.

They all wore the traditional thick material most military uniforms were made of and heavy combat boots, but that was not enough. Each person also had heavy helmets, thick gloves, backpacks and utility belts that were weighed down with an arsenal of supplies. Every person looked like they could be a stand alone army to you. Everyone seemed so prepared.

Piers was the other outlier of the group. His tactical gear was a mix between yours and the groups. Like everyone else, he wore cargo pants and a military jacket with heavy combat boots, but that was where the similarities ended. He did not have a back pack or belt or a heavy helmet. He had a bullet proof vest with many pockets to store everything he needed since he too relied on stealth. 

You continued to watch the young Lieutenant as he walked around to check on his men. You could tell he was doing a weapons and supply check to make sure the team was ready. He took one soldier's gun and looked it over with a keen gaze.

"He's so adorable." Your eyes grew wide when you realized what you said and Finn gave you a sly smile. "I-I mean he's adorable if he thinks we will take him seriously! He's like a puppy dog!" Finn raised his eyebrow and you waited of his inevitable teasing comment, which was a little too immediate for your liking.

"An adorable one though. Right?" It only took a second for him to burst out laughing at your mistake and his own comment. You could tell he was proud of his joke. You whipped around to face him as you fumed in a mix of embarrassment and anger. 

"What? Those were your words." He questioned innocently, stifling another laugh. You flipped your gun onto your back in order to hit Clint on the shoulder in playful anger. Your revenge was short lived though, as it was cut off by a yell addressed towards you. 

"(l/n)!" You stiffened immediately and addressed the Captain respectfully as he walked toward you. Everyone loved the Captain even though he was the tough love type. He cared for his soldiers immensely and constantly demonstrated that loyalty on the field. There were many stories floating around about his heroism and how he risked his life, on numerous occasions, to save his men. 

"Yes, sir?" You tried not to look confused or out of place as you changed over to a serious mode so quickly. You hoped you looked respectable and hoped that the blush faded from your cheeks at the very least. 

"Since you are more recon, I want you up front with Lieutenant Nivans and me." You nodded your head respectfully and spoke, "Of course sir!" That was all he needed to hear as he walked away soon after with you on his heels. 

You held your gun in a firm grip once again and looked over your shoulder to find Finn one man behind you. Apparently he pushed himself towards the front, so he could be closer to you. You smiled back at him to show you appreciated his support. He hated crowds. The only reason he in the front of the group, was to give you moral support. You needed to know he was with you in this mess.

Your team was efficiency structured, even when everyone split up to preform their specific duties. The snipers broke off from the back to get their designated high ground, you pushed forward to scout ahead with Piers and everyone else jumped from cover to cover. Luckily, like every European town you imagined, the buildings were grouped together and provided abundant amounts of cover. You were impressed by the team's efficiency since there was almost too much ground to cover in the street.

You hugged the wall of a building when Captain Redfield rose his fist in the air, signaling for everyone to stop. You slowed your breathing and focused on listening to your surroundings. You could hear the footsteps of a mysterious animal. Its hoofed feet made an unmistakable sound as they asphalt in rhythmic steps. You watched its shadow loomed around one soldier's cover. He stood firmly, despite being inches away from a monster, and had his gaze locked intently on his commander. He was waiting for a signal.

"Fire!" With those words the frigid silence was broken by gunfire. The monster was a Napad, a mutated human that was covered in thick armor and tended to throw people around. These creatures, like all other mutated beings, were extremely resilient to gunfire, but not immune. The monster rushed forward and bowled over two soldiers that were too slow to get out of the way. You rushed forward and got right in front of the creature's face. Its breath smelled like decaying meat and its sharp fanged teeth were covered in fresh blood. You felt your courage diminish as you faced the monster head on, but planted your feet and fired your gun anyways. It stumbled back for a brief moment back due to the force of your combined firepower and allowed for your partners to run for cover. You ran back to your post once you noticed they were safe.

"Looks like it brought back up. Stay alert." An unfamiliar voice crackled over you ear piece. Just as his sentence ended, two more monsters raced around the corner. The turn was too sharp for them, so they collided with the wall and took a chunk out of it. Gray dust filled the air as a result of the collision and hid the mutants. 

"This is Captain Refield to HQ. We have made contact with three enemies." Everyone started to close in slowly. You did your best to focus your vision to spot the enemies. A piercing animalistic howl sounded and one of the creatures dropped. 

"Copy that alpha team. Keep pushing in to flush out the rest." You placed the conversation in the back of your mind and tried to not let it distract you. 

"Hit the deck!" Piers strong voice rose above the chaos, firm and commanding. You followed the command without a second thought and dropped into the rocky dirt. Three of the massive bone spikes cut through the air above you. You heard the tearing of flesh and squeezed your eyes shut. One of them found a target. It was a Strelac that attacked him. 

You dared to look over your shoulder and found the man behind you who was already on his knees. You never saw a dead man before. Sure there were funerals where they dressed the person up and put them in a coffin but that was all fake...staged. They made death look beautiful, peaceful and tried to hide death behind make up. What you saw then was death's true face.

The bone was still inside him and blood dripped out of his mouth. Blood soaked through his vest from the hole that now resided in his chest. His blue eyes became dull and cloudy, his jaw suddenly went slack and his grip on the bone spike faded. Another soldier cursed and charged the killer in blind rage that was fuled by revenge. You did not react to the noise of his yelling....or the gun fire, but stared instead. All the noise became a dull echoing in the back of your mind.

Your senses returned to you when a fellow soldier grabbed you by your vest and started pulling you to move. You both remained crouched and ran for cover. It was Finn who helped you. You were grateful that he did not comment on you freezing up... or yell at you. He just helped because that was the kind of friend he was. 

He raised his voice so it could be heard not only above the noise produced from the chaos around you, but break through the fog that clouded your mind.

"You ok?" Obvious concern filled his voice as he helped you along. He did not speak again until you were both behind a short stone wall. You had to crouch in order to have proper cover. You peeked around the wall and fired steadily at one dogs, your bullets flew at a rhythmic pace. Your magazine suddenly emptied, so you retreated and put your back against the wall. You popped out the clip and Finn covered you.

"You were pretty close to....him..." You relaized he was referring to the dead soldier and you squeezed your eyes shut. An image of him flashed in your mind. He seemed nice and it hurt to think he was gone. Your fingers scrambled to retrieve a clip and deftly popped it in and cocked the gun. You felt safe again. 

"Yeah. It sailed right over my head." Your voiced was dulled and slightly pained, far from the cheerful and optimistic tone Clint knew. You peaked over the wall and watched one of the boar's legs buckle. It fell face first, slid in the dirt and remained still.

"Second hostile down!" The voice from earlier buzzed over your intercom. You vaulted over the wall, gun braced in your right hand, and ran to help corall the last beast. It was raging and bucking around like a wild horse. Apparently being alone made it resort to erratic attacks. It continuously tried to rush your team, but everyone kept their distance. It too went down with a wailing howl and fell into the ground. Everyone disbanded once it was a confirmed kill and walked on.

"Well. We just survived our first scuffle with a BOW." A proud smile washed over Finn's face. 

"I guess we did."

You followed your leader and forced yourself to break off from Finn who gave you a reassuring nod. He knew you were ordered to be up front. You were greeted by an interesting scene when you arrived. The Lieutenant and Captain were speaking in what you would have guessed to be a heated debate, based off of Piers unnatural rigidness.

He was obviously holding his tongue to respect the captain's orders and was not pleased about it. He stormed off like a child the moment he was dismissed and Chris ignored his antics. The Captain seemed to be use to his second in command acting up. Piers was a very passionate soldier with firm beliefs and pride. When any of those qualities were attacked it was hard for him to keep himself together. 

You ran off after Piers who was trying to seclude himself. He felt annoyed when he saw you, the newbie, running after him. New recruits like you were always hounding him, feeling afraid to make a mistake or act on their own in any way. The last thing he needed was someone constantly baradding him with useless questions. He did not expect you to be any different and took a deep breath in order to prepare himself to shoo you off.

The young man was still pacing when you reached him. "Are you ok Piers?" He stood there in confusion for a second, but it did not show. You stood there, staring at him with obvious concern. It was in that moment he felt he could trust you, but he could not bring himself to open up. His voice was soft and natural as he spoke, but it only lasted for a moment.

"Yeah..." he shook his head to stop himself from saying anymore. You could tell there was something he wanted to confess to you, but he was holding himself back. His tone quickly gained its normal egde, "just--let's keep going." He brushed past you, did his best to pull himself together and walked on. You noticed that Piers was now trailing behind the Captain instead of being by his side. You pieced it together that they must of had an argument. 

You sped up in order to stay by Pier's side so you could support him. He barley acknowledge you, even though you knew he heard your quick footsteps approach him. He was too aware to not hear them.

He did not speak as you walked by his side. Instead of talking he spoke into the com set that was clipped to the strap of his vest. You could hear him exchanging new plans for attacks and routes with HQ. His mind was quick as he automatically suggested a solution to every problem that came up. Sadly only half of his plans were listened to, which seemed to put him down even more. He walked at an even quicker pace, and you ended up passing the captain. Still, you patiently waited for Piers to talk as you continued to hike further ahead of your group. 

Piers appreciated the silent support you offered him, but his pride stopped him from saying anything directly. His stubbornness was obvious to you. He was too big a man to acknowledge that he needed support, so you would force him to acknowledge it; sometime. For now you decided to just be by his side. Sometimes a friendly face is all someone needs. 

Piers stuck his arm in front of you, forcing you to stop walking, as he eyed a two story house. The building had a makeshift scaffolding that was meant for painters on its side and wooden board walk ways that connected it to other rooftops. It was at the end of the street, not blocked off by other homes and ahead of the group. This all added it up to being a good temporary look out point. 

While it took you a whole minute to asses the home and decide that it was a good place to hunker down, it took Piers a brief glance. Years of scouting and fighting on the job helped him develop an eye to spot building that had strategic advantages. 

You nodded to Piers to assure him you were prepared and he swiftly kicked open the door. Pieces of the wooden frame flew threw the air and you jerked up your rifle until it was at eye level. Staring down the sights, you walked down the hall and took the rooms on your right. 

It was a small kitchen that took a disastrous hit. Every pot and pan on the premises laid on the tiled floor, obviously thrown out to deter an attacker. Blood resedue was smeared across the counter tops and it was not until you rounded the counter that you found the victim. There were defensive wounds that looked like claw marks on her fore arms and her neck was twisted, suggesting it was broken from pressure of a bite. 

You continued on to the next room which looked to be a dinning room. If it was not for the cabinet of untouched china nestled in the corner of the room, there would have been no way to guess what the room was. Everything else in it was a splintering mess of hunks of wood and broken furniture. 

"First floor clear!" You shouted to inform your leader that your half of the level was clear. He rounded through before meeting you back at the front door where you both started. Next you swept over the upper floor and set up. Piers began setting up a tri-pod when you decided to discuss your finding with him. 

"There was a victim down stairs. She was mauled by one of these BO--"

"If you can't handle this, you shouldn't be here." He responded without breaking his rhythm of setting up the tripod. You glowered at him. 

"I was just informing you there might be an enemy near by that we won't be able to see from this vantage point." You corrected him with venom in your tone. You were aware of his blunt personality, but it was hard to handle at times. You also had to watch your words around him. He still out ranked you and the last thing you needed was a dishonorable discharge so early in the game. 

"If you cannot handle it then leave. It just gets worse." His statement was from experience and repeated out of habit. You were not the first new recruit he had to watch over and you would not have been the first unable to stomach the sights on field. Almost half of the potential partners he got quit on their second mission, so he always relayed this warning to them. Eventually the statement no longer had meaning to him and was given out with an unsympathetic tone. 

"And don't think I did not notice you freeze up back there. Your stupid mistake could have gotten you and Finn killed." His word choice was cold and matter of fact, only adding to the anger rising in your chest.

You stood tall and proud, squaring yourself off against him. He took up your challenge, stepping closer only to remind you how much taller he was than you, but you still did not back down. 

"Fall in line soldier." He growled with a final warning. You stared into his stern hazel eyes, before letting out a heavy breath and stepping back. He was right after all, you almost did get killed and him using that against you took all the wind out of your sails. Never the less, your anger sat in the pit of your stomach.

You set up your own tripod in front of a window in the room next to his and rested your sniper rifle on it. You used your scope to scan over the area, keeping a sharp eye for any kind of movement. It was ten minutes until you spotted someone and all your anger fell off you, being replaced with concern. The figure wore a heavy jacket and held a side arm as he ducked into a near by house. Your anger melted away the moment the chance of danger appeared. 

"Sir. I got eyes on someone. Outside the third house, first level." Piers panned according to your given description and mummer under his breath. You questioned what he said, so he repeated himself. 

"Mercenary."

Chapter 2

The moment the words left his mouth Piers jerked away from the gun and activated his comm to inform his Captain of the new threat. The sudden turn of events had your head spinning. Since when were there mercenaries after you? You were not informed of this! 

You kept the enemy in the center of your cross hairs and studied his actions and overall presentation as he paced in front of the windows. He seemed to be too preoccupied with someone on a walkie talkie to even notice the two of you. He also seemed uncaring as he made flamboyantly large gestures to whoever was on the other end of the line. 

"We need to take him out." Piers officially informed you. Your finger hovered over the trigger, but you could not bring yourself to pull it down. Conflict quickly stirred inside you and fogged your mind. How could everyone else see in black and white so easily. At that moment that ability was something you envied. 

This was a human life he was asking you to take; not a mutated creature of some sort. You did not pull the trigger and let Piers take the shot instead. It would be better for you to be seen as incompetent rather than questioning his authority. 

You felt shame and regret sink inside your chest as you saw the man's body suddenly drop to the floor. You felt like a coward for not voicing your opinion by not speaking on the man's behalf, but you also felt like a coward for not pulling the trigger. This did not feel like a victory to you, but it did not feel like senseless killing either. This was all obviously out of defense, but taking any type of human life was not what you wanted. You were here to save innocent people, not deal with criminals.

Piers waited patiently by his rifle to see if any other enemies were drawn out by the echoing gun fire. You stayed out of your scope to get a full view of your surroundings. That was the down side of having a sniper rifle, you lost your peripheral vision. 

"We got two flankers rushing to the doorway." You announced. They pointed their guns to the floor as they raced into the blind spot against the door way. You immediately turned around, your automatic rifle drawn and ready to fire at whatever came up the stairs. Man or not, you had to kill whatever came against you, because now they were attacking you. 

The first object that came up the stairs was a flash bang. The searing white light blinded you, leaving spots in your vision once it disappeared to disorientate you. You managed to fire at the first figure, who dropped to the ground, before the second slammed into you shoulder and pressed you against the wall. Now your vision was back and you could retaliate properly. You gripped your gun and used it to shove him back, then jammed the butt into his chest. When he regained his balance, which was almost immediately, he pulled a long knife on you and swiped. You remembered learning that a knife always beats a gun when it comes to close combat fighting, so you did not try to fire. You reactively leaned back to dodge the attack and Piers jumped into the fight. He quickly incapacitated the enemy by slamming him into the wall and finished him off. 

"You ok?" Too surprised by the fact he was speaking, you instead nodded swiftly in response. Not counting the fight, it was the closest thing you had to a normal conversation since this morning. 

"Yeah. We get them all?" Piers scanned over the long stretch of road that layed before him. You trusted his instincts much more than your own and wanted him to confirm that it was safe for the rest of the group to travel through. The lieutenant spoke through his walkie-talkie as a way of answering your question as he informed his superior at the same time. 

"It's all clear captain." As soon as his finger left the talk button, the captain's voice buzzed over the radio. 

"Good job you two. You can fall back. Now we need to stay focused and reach the first camp."

The last sweep went on without incident. Everyone did their part to set up a temporary camp around a cleared out and mostly sound building one of the base camps was centered around.

You walked alone as everyone else ran for the campfire. Apparently drinking, sharing stories and opening letters from home were all popular pass times that occurred there. You were watching the others enjoy themselves and were caught of guard when Piers addressed you. 

"I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you. Would you like to drink with me...by the fire?" He stiffly gestured to the improve campfire that was roaring behind him where the rest of your team mates were gathered. You could tell it was hard for him to invite you over, but you accepted his invitation without referring to his actions. This was an opportunity to get on his good side, and you did not do that by making fun of people. Instead you decided to be real and say what was on your mind concerning him.

"You know who cares if the guys on top acknowledge you? Even if they don't say it. You're a real benefit to the team." You commented and turned to him with a kind smile. He rolled his eyes at you with a hint of a laugh. You were too optimistic to be here in his opinion, too kind. 

"I am not trying to suck up or anything by the way. I just...noticed." You quickly added, regretting how quickly you let your previous words fly from your mouth. A heavy blush tinted your cheeks and the conversation was put on a sudden holt and a feeling of dred filled you. Did you make the wrong choice?

Two men were slightly tipsy by the fire, which forced the other members to cut them off. No one could risk a hangover the night before a mission. The others were still joking and nursing their last drink. You approached calmly and sat on the log, while Piers remained standing stiff as always.

You realized then that he really did not know how to relax or stop thinking about his job. He was always on alert and that was why most soldiers viewed him as being "a hard ass with a stick up his butt" as some soldiers liked to put it. He was the odd man out in the group and you quickly caught on as to why. The recently buzzing atmosphere that was charged with excited energy and laughter, was now dying. The Lieutenant's presence seemed to turn heads since he was ominously staring over everyone. 

"At least try to blend in." You whispered to Piers and passed him a bottle. He let out a sigh and then sat next to you, bottle in hand, once you made room for him to sit. He started a group toast to your partners that were lost and soon found comfort in the group. The rest of the night was calm an uneventful, just the way you hoped it would be.

Chapter 3  
"Spread out in groups to secure the area." Captain Redfield ordered to your huddled group as you arrived to the first zone of they day. It was still early morning, the sun barley rose just a minute ago, so most of your group was not fully awake. They did not have any coffee and barley anything to eat, which only added to their grogginess. It was shown through the way they rubbed their eyes and blinked excessively in a futile attempt to resist their need for sleep.

"I said is that clear!" The captain yelled again, stirring his men awake and bothering the ones who were hung over. They suddenly stood tall and alert, now looking like real soldiers instead of boys.

"Yes sir!" You yelled along with them and met Finn to team up with as you always did. 

"What do you think's bothering him today?" Finn questioned, pointing the butt of his rifle towards the young Lieutenant. You let out a devilish smirk at the opportunity to make a joke. 

"Probably all twisted up over not getting a gold star on his report card yesterday." Finn snickered at your joke and laid out another friendly one towards the man who needed to get the stick out of his butt.

"I mean I know I can be over cautious but sometimes--" You cut yourself off mid-sentence and stared down the alley way you and Finn ended up down. Honestly you were wandering around so aimlessly, you could barley tell where you were. 

"What's wrong" Finn questioned looking at you for an answer for why you were acting so odd. Instead, the noise that put you in such a defensive state sounded off again, and this time you were sure you heard right this time. It was a man, in danger. 

Without a second thought you raced ahead of Finn, down the alley and towards the noise. You could barley register Finn yelling at you to slow down as he updated the rest of the group over the comms. Him and every other sound around you became dull white noise in the back of your mind as you focused on your task. 

"Someone is being chased!" You yelled towards Finn and crashed into the civilian later down the road. He latched onto your shoulders as you held him as he looked shell shocked and horrified. 

"Sir! Are you ok? Do you need medical assistance? Sir?" You did your best to catch his attention, but it was useless. He was staring straight through you with a forced smile and wide eyes. He then mumbled something incoherent to you, before breaking from your grip and running off again. You had no time to contemplate what he said, as the rest of your team found you to help you rescue the civilian. Everyone tracked him down this time with you towards the front.

You were all lead to a two story single roomed building. Everyone stopped just outside the green metal door. You pressed your backs up against the wall and all patiently waited on the Captain for a signal once again. You pointed your weapon to the ground, finger pressed against the trigger guard, but not on the trigger. You knew poor trigger discipline is what usually made hostage situations messy.

Piers went in first with everyone else just behind him. The metal door flew open when it was kicked in by the Lieutenant. Piers stepped inside with his gun drawn and nerves on edge. Since it was a hostage situation he could not just start shooting. Once he did a visual sweep of the room and confirmed there was nothing threatening in front of him, he aimed his gun to the right of the room and that was when something caught him.

The four legged creature came from the right of the doorway to blindside him. It pounced on him, causing him to summer-salt backwards and be pinned to the ground. He pressed the length of his gun against the dog's neck so it could not bite him and its claws dug into his shoulders. He yelled in pain and the sound stirred a protective instinct inside you.

You kicked the creature right in the stomach, causing it to fall off of him without causing any additional damage to your Lieutenant. Once he was free, Piers grabbed his gun and dragged it towards him as he propped himself against the nearest wall. The creature was dead in seconds thanks to the rest of the team.  
"They are using these people to guard something here." The captain explained after catching on to the enemy's plan. He quickly thought of a way to counter it and gave out a new set of orders. "Everyone stay close and keep a sharp eye out for hiding spots. Piers are you ok?"

After being questioned on his condition by his commander, Piers inspected the wounds the enemy inflicted on him. Blood now stained his clothes and his shoulders stung, but the body armor he wore was thick enough to stop the claws from causing any major damage. It was all just flesh wounds, but his left shoulder did take a harder impact and would need to be wrapped at least. 

"I am fine sir. Just a flesh wound." He reported in. Finn walked up to his superior and the two of them talked. You were sure Finn was just trying to convince Piers to wrap his wound, which he did after Finn pushed him to.

Soon after Finn found a stone stair case that was hidden behind some bushes against a back wall. The small opening was very hard to notice, just a bit over five feet tall and blended in with the other arch ways that popped up around the street. You and Finn were short enough to not need to duck under the door way, but all the other soldiers had to stoop down in varying degrees. But since the stairs were descending, they were only uncomfortable for a short while.

Everyone filed down the narrow stair well and clicked on the flashlights that were either pinned to their vest straps, like yours, or attached to their guns, like the captain's. The stair well lead into a wide open area that lead into other tunnels, much like a sewer system. 

"Why are there so many mazes." One soldier complained from a point you could not see due to the darkness. All you could spot was the beam of his flashlight, which he was foolishly pointing to the ground. You shook your head at him and filed down the nearest tunnel, unknowingly following Piers. 

You steadied your breath and once again focused your hearing as you waited for something to attack you from the darkness. It would be the perfect ambush point, even better than using that infected mercenary from earlier.

Your flashlight only allowed you to see one area of the room at a time, you were limited to what you could focus on. Everyone was jumpy, but no one could fire blindly into the darkness since you could accidentally injure someone. In fact, the guns were almost useless unless the enemy attacked first. Even then, a shot was risky to take unless the enemy was close. 

You were so deep in thought, you did not register the sound of Pier's foot fall stopping and still could not see him in the inky darkness, so you ran straight into his chest. You immediately became flustered and Piers reactivity placed his hand on your shoulder to steady you out of concern, before instantly retracting his hand. Still you noticed the small gesture as he let out an awkward cough and went on to explain why he stopped. 

"There's something here." he explained in a whisper that was sent in your direction. You gave a quiet reply to confirm that you heard him and waited. That was when your flashlight glanced over a small figure in the darkness that was just behind the Lieutenant. Without thinking your surged forward, just under Pier's arms, and threw your shoulder into the enemy as you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt it stumble backwards from your blow and you were terrified about having no idea what you were fighting. 

You stepped back once the BOW was away from you and your new partner. Piers shined the light directly into monsters eyes, blinding it as it shrieked. For the second you saw Piers's face, thanks to his flashlight, he looked deadly and focused as he leveled his gun directly at the enemy's head. His eyes were squinted and his mouth was in a straight faced scowl. It was not until after he fired bullets straight into the monster's skull that you realized it was not the only thing he was angry at. 

"Why did you throw yourself at that BOW? They were not a problem." He questioned you in an aggressive way that made you feel like you were being interrogated. You looked at him in complete shock an anger. You were furious at him for assuming you would purposely do something so reckless and mess up on top of it. Your voice and stance became bluntly aggressive towards him as you defended yourself.

"I was trying to help you. He was about to attack you from behind. I swear you are so arrogant. Always assuming that if something goes wrong it has to be someone else's fault. God forbid you mess up."

"Maybe I wouldn't jump to conclusions if the evidence stacked against everyone wasn't so damning." He shot back with venom in his tone and even after realizing he went to far, he refused to take back his statement. 

"My actions were good enough to the team AND the captain. Why is everything I do no good enough to you?!? Do you hate me or something?" Piers was stunned into silence. He felt ashamed knowing he made you think he hated you. YOU. The one person he actually respected and allowed himself to put in front of others. The one person he caught feelings for. He was shaken from his thoughts when you continued to speak with angry tears in your eyes that he could not see.

"You know what?! I don't care if you hate me." The lie stung, but you pressed on. "Because you don't have to like me, but you do have to respect my actions and let me do my job."

Suddenly lights sprung on with a loud click for each one and the whole room was slowly lit up. The light revealed your face and the moment Piers saw it, he regretted everything he said. It was almost like he did not realize he was yelling at you just a second ago. Before it was just a voice in the darkness he was mad at, but now seeing yours eyes glossy from anger and sadness, all he felt was guilt. 

What you noticed when the lights went on was something different. You looked up and immediately noticed the sharp spikes that were attached to the grey stone archway in the room. If this trap ran on electricity, it was about to spring so, despite your anger at this man you put yourself in harms way for him once again. You pushed yourself off of him without warning, barley throwing him towards the group while your fell where he once stood. 

The spikes crashed straight into the stone below them, emitting a deep grating noise through the tunnels. You looked over your shoulder, not wanting to completely face the consequences of your actions, to find metal bars separating you from your team. "Guessing they were hoping to catch more people with this." You darkly joked with a dry awkward laugh as you slowly approached the bars and gripped them. 

Piers took something off from around his neck and thrusted the object past the bars and held it out towards you. Delicately dangling off of his fingers, rested his silver dog tags. You froze for a moment from being caught off guards by the deep gesture, and carefully removed yours to trade with him. 

It was an old superstition that resides within your unit. A myth that trading dog tags with another soldier could prevent your death since you could not die until you returned the tags to their rightful owner. It had something to do with tricking the Grim Reaper into thinking you were someone else when he read your tag. Traditionally, it was something reserved just for couples in the military. 

"You better return those to me now. Ok (l/n)." He joked in an achy tone. You looked into his eyes and saw pain and worry there. His emotional reaction caught you off guard because he was never an emotional person. 

Odd noises and growls bounced off the tunnels walls around you. You re-actively glanced over your shoulder nervously, but immediately refocused your attention on Piers in order to not worry him. 

"You better get going," the captain advised solemnly since he had to be the grim reminder to tell you what was behind you. You responded by carefully placing Pier's dog tags around your neck and turning down the tunnel to run. 

Worry and regret filled Piers as he watched you turn your back on him, but he kept a strong face. You were part of Captain Redfield's team, you would be ok, but still he worried. 

Piers acted as if none of the soldiers just witnessed the vulnerable exchange he had with you and dove back into giving orders, now with more aggression. His anger was seeping into his actions once again.

You ran down the back tunnels in search of an way to rejoin your team, while being fully aware of their efforts to save you. Despite your best efforts, the structure of the tunnels worked against you. Every tunnel you came across was barred off and forced you down a straight pathway. As much as you wanted to drag your feet and avoid being funneled into an obvious trap, you had no choice but to press on. Once you reached the end of the tunnel, you put your back against the wall and hunkered down for a fight as the growling of the infected only grew louder. 


End file.
